


Kenjirou Goes to the Bar

by MajoMagica



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga, Kagerou Project, Neon Genesis Evangelion, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 08:15:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1380475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajoMagica/pseuds/MajoMagica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kenjirou thinks he's finally done enough to impress the rest of the group.  This is not so.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kenjirou Goes to the Bar

**Author's Note:**

> With all the major things going on in the Kagepro fandom right now, I couldn't resist. Kagerou Days V spoilers.

“BEAT THAT BITCHES!” Tateyama Kenjirou, or the clearing eyes snake, or whoever the fuck he was, bust through the door to the bar wearing a pair of bright pink shutter shades.

“Shit,” muttered Dr. Yeager. _Gonna have to step up my game_.

“I’m guessing you’ll want the usual?” said the bartender with a smile, before saying something under his breath about ‘fucking drunkards’, and ‘how he didn’t get paid enough to deal with this shit.’

Kenjirou took the seat next to Gendo Ikari and stared at him until he said something.

Over the tops of his hands, Gendo finally spoke. “Well?”

“I’ve FINALLY topped the rest of you in anime dad cruelty! And I don’t even have an anime yet!”

In the corner, Hohenheim was nursing a bottle of tequila. “IT WASN’T INTENTIONAL!” he cried.

“Well, I’ve attempted the murder of three of my children plus several others, then caused my biological daughter to jump off a building, before manipulating one of my others into doing my bidding with the threat of slaughtering the others! The lasting psychological harm is magnificent!” Kenjirou laughed like an evil TV genius.

“…” Silence filled the bar.

“You came here to tell us that?” Grisha looked annoyed.

“It’s impressive, though, isn’t it?” the big-ass smile on Kenjirou’s face was fading slightly.

“Tell ‘em how it’s done, Ikari.”

Gendo looked slightly annoyed through his glasses at this, but took a deep breath and began. 

“I abandoned my son at a young age, causing emotional issues with just that act, then only called him back so that I could use him to start the apocalypse. Within the first ten minutes of him being there, I’ve already used a clone of his mother to guilt-trip him into piloting the robot, where he then feels himself get ghost-impaled through the head by beings too horrible for imagination. He then gets emotionally and physically tortured for several months by causing the deaths of his various friends that he managed to make while there while still fighting said abominations. 

That’s not even counting the fact that when he finally snaps, he causes the apocalypse via tang that I wanted. I achieved all my goals while still managing to be as much of a dick as possible.”

Kenjirou sat there slack-jawed. His party shades fell off his face.

“In conclusion, you’re a noob to the art of son-related dickery,” added Grisha.

“But at least my son is still alive and suffering at this point!” Kenjirou slammed his glass against the table.

“So’s mine,” Grisha looked unimpressed. “You never even abandoned yours.”

Kenjirou started chugging the beer he was holding.

Within a couple hours, he was sobbing and holding on to Grisha’s sleeve.

“I-I just want to impress you guys! Why won’t you r-let me?!”

“You’re getting my coat dirty,” said Grisha.

“I bet there-ere’s not even anything special in yo-your basement!” Kenjirou cried.

“Of course there’s not anything useful in my basement! What kind of dick anime father would I be if I put something useful to the quest in the plot-important basement!?”

“The what the fuck’s in there?!” Grisha had been successfully pulled Kenjirou off him, but he was now facedown on the bar.

“Some packs of gum and a laptop with Tv Tropes open,” Grisha reclaimed his calm demeanor, which was somewhat less impressive then reclaiming the basement.

Hohenheim groaned in the corner. He had lost several hundred years to that accursed website.

“F-fine! I don’t need someone with such a stupid mustache anyway!” Kenjirou  
sniffed.

“What did you say about my mustache, bitch? I’m guessing you’ve never felt the Yeager secret technique, have you?”

“Secret technique?”

It is lost to history what exactly happened in those few moments, but it is remembered as The Worst, Most Despair Inducing Karate Chop in the History of Mankind. Kenjirou was glad he was drunk at the time, but it was still magnificently painful.

Several minutes later, Grisha had moved Kenjirou to a booth with the help of Hohenheim. 

“You… bastards…” he muttered.

Grisha ordered another drink. “Did I ever tell you about the time I won the lottery?”

Gendo looked vaguely interested. Or maybe he just saw an amusing dust particle on his gloves, who could tell.

“Y’see, it was right before Wall Maria fell, and I was looking for an opportunity to get away, so I got something from the South African Regional Lottery in the mail saying I’d won, even though I hadn’t entered, so I figured, hey, what the hell, and went.”

“What the hell man?!” Kenjirou piped up from the booth. “Is anything in your show nearly as dramatic as it’s supposed to be?!”

“No,” Grisha glared at him again and Kenjirou ducked behind the back of the booth again.

Bad Father Classic had taken out his phone and was now looking at the photos. There were several poorly taken selfies, including one where he was partially melted into LCL that made Kenjirou want to throw up. 

Kenjirou turned to look at Hohenheim and… Hohenheim was wearing his discarded shutter shades. No comment.

They heard a noise at the door of the bar as it opened with whispering and rustling. Then… the cocking of a shotgun?

Oh shit.

There were, one, two, three voices. Plus a shotgun. Did I mention the shotgun?

“Ok, which one of you fuckers fucked with Shinji and the people of your nation?”

“Eren, no!”

“I am Eren Yeager, fighter of the unjust, and judge of terrible people! Prepare to die!!!1”

Then… was that a magical transformation? There was nudity and clothes popping into existence and bows. A lot of bows.

“Eren, what did I tell you about doubling up on deals with the devil?!” Grisha shouted angrily.

“I don’t have to do what you say anymore, Dad! I have a shotgun and magical powers!”

“You can’t sell your soul twice!” he protested.

“Well I did! And you can’t stop me!”

The two of them argued angrily, which may or may not have involved a musical number about both reaching for the gun, the bartender had given Kenjiro a bottle of whiskey at some point and he couldn’t tell.

The bell above the door to the bar rang again and a small white cat-like thing with long ears and red eyes treaded in.

“Wassup broskis? What did I miss?” it said.


End file.
